


The Week in a Life of a Wannabe Pokémon League Champion

by yurishika



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Anime Tropes, Friendship, Pokemon AU, Shoma-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 20:16:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11653935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yurishika/pseuds/yurishika
Summary: Every Pokémon trainer’s dream is to be in the Pokémon League, the competition of the best of the best. In Shoma’s first year at the League, he aims to prove that he is the very best that no one ever was. But, of course, it’s not all roses.





	The Week in a Life of a Wannabe Pokémon League Champion

**Author's Note:**

> \- I had planned on posting this last year for a t-list mutuals fic fest, but the fic fest didn't push through. I happened to be bored and I started reading old fics. I stumbled upon this and I decided to post this because why not?  
> \- A lot of things have changed since this fic was written, but I've decided not to change anything with the plot.  
> \- I also wanted this to be crack but idk why this became a little bit of coming-of-age?? Idk??  
> \- It’s been a decade?? since I last played Pokémon so I hope I did the entire thing justice?? Thanks to Clara for being my Pokémon expert guide throughout writing this.  
> \- Dedicated to Banan!

The boy standing on the other side of the arena has his hands on his hips, his chin up, and a smirk on his face that Shoma wants to wipe out. He clenches his Pokéball, waiting for the referee to give the go signal, which should be anytime soon. Above them, the huge screen at the center of the arena flashes their faces and their names—Shoma Uno (Japan) vs. Nam Nguyen (Canada). They have six Pokémon and ten minutes to make sure one of them isn’t going to make it to the next round. In this case, Shoma has to make sure it’s Nam who’s not going to make it.

Nam continues to smirk at him, tossing a Pokéball on his hand. “Don’t worry, kid,” he says. “I’ll go easy on you.”

Shoma rolls his eyes and wants to point out that he’s literally older than Nam so he shouldn’t be calling him “kid”, but the referee blows his whistle, a sign that they should get ready for battle.

Three, two, one …

Shoma takes a deep breath and tosses his Pokéball in the arena. “Go, Charizard!”

The Pokéball opens, the flash of light taking on the form of an orange dragon, its tail burning with a sizable flame, just as Nam throws his own Pokéball, revealing an Arcanine. Charizard roars, its usual battle cry before he attacks, but that doesn’t seem to faze the dog Pokémon.

Fire against fire. This should be interesting.

“Arcanine, use Thunder Fang!”

The dog growls and Shoma had barely blinked when it pounces on his Pokémon, its fangs sinking deep on Charizard’s arm. Charizard growls in pain, swats Arcanine with its tail before flying to another side of the arena, who had just cheered loudly.

Shoma tsks and looks at his Pokémon, whose arm is red from the bite. “Can you move it?” he asks. His shoulders relax when Charizard nods. Now he has to make sure Arcanine doesn’t paralyze his Pokémon for good. “Arcanine can only beat you when your feet are on the ground. Make sure all attacks are on air, got it?”

Charizard nods and spreads his wings, and Shoma allows himself to smile at Nam’s annoyed expression when Charizard is way up in the arena.

“That’s not fair!” Nam yells, furiously reaching for another Pokéball in his belt pocket. “Fine, if it’s flying you want, then it’s flying you’re gonna get. Go, Aerodactyl!”

The Pokéball flies up in the air and opens, revealing the reptile Pokémon, baring its fangs as it spreads its wings. Shoma is quick to yell a “Charizard, Flamethrower!” before Aerodactyl can even react. The next thing he knows, the air above them is blazing, and Aerodactyl slowly descends on the arena grounds, charred and unconscious.

Shoma relishes the string of swear words that come out of Nam’s mouth.

And it all seems to go downhill for Nam from there. For every Pokémon he calls out, Shoma has a resounding answer to it—Gyarados to beat Arcanine, Psyduck to beat Scyther (Nam had laughed at Psyduck but who’s laughing now)—until the ten minutes are up and the referee’s holding up his hand, declaring him the winner.

Shoma feels small amidst the cheers of the crowd, but if the swelling of his chest is any indication, he feels good about the whole thing nonetheless.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The next few moments after stepping out of the arena are crazy—suddenly Shoma’s surrounded by too many cameras flashing and too many microphones being shoved at his direction. They’re all asking how he did it, how he defeated one of Canada’s best Pokémon trainers at the moment. Shoma wants to say that based on the battle earlier it was hard to believe Nam Nguyen was one of the best, but he keeps that to himself. Suddenly, an arm slips around his shoulders and someone is yelling, “Out of the way! Out of the way! Future Pokémon League champion coming through!” and dragging him away from the flashing lights.

His savior turns out to be his friend Nathan, who drags him towards the entrance hall, each wall lined up with posters of the League, and its previous champions. For some reason, the poster next to where they’re standing is Daisuke Takahashi, the only League Legend in his eyes. Shoma remembers watching Daisuke as he ferociously beat Evan Lysacek from the farthest side of the arena. It was one of the best moments of his life.

Anyway … back to Nathan. And Shoma’s best friend, Sota, who’s wearing this new cap he probably bought in the merchandise store. Sota’s Pikachu is standing right next to him, standing out in a stadium where Pokémon are supposed to be tucked away inside their Pokéball. (But then Sota had spoiled his Pikachu to the point it doesn’t want to be in a Pokéball anymore.) When Shoma’s eyes have adjusted to normal lighting, he speaks up. “Uh …”

“Dude, you did it!” Nathan exclaims, grinning as he shakes Shoma by the shoulders. “You got past Round 1 of the League!”

“Um, yeah, I did,” Shoma says, rather lamely.

“Look at him, so enthusiastic!” Sota chuckles. “Come on, let’s go someplace to celebrate.” Pikachu squeaks pleasantly beside him.

They end up celebrating in a diner near their hotel. Everywhere else is full with trainers and spectators alike in the biggest competition of the year. They slide to a window seat, and Nathan orders whatever’s their best-seller while Sota feeds mozzarella sticks to Pikachu, and Shoma’s just content to tuck his chin on his hand and watch the people from outside.

Sota gives a blow-by-blow recap of Shoma’s match against Nam. “Did you see his face when Charizard burned Aerodactyl? Priceless! Nam doesn’t exactly have the best reputation if I remember correctly, so you beating him is a slap to his face!”

Shoma can’t resist smiling as he bites into his burger—it’s really good, by the way. “Now that you mention it, it did feel great to beat him,” he remarks.

“I’m not sorry to see him go so early either,” Nathan remarks with a shake of his head. “Man, I wish I was eligible for the League.”

“Me, too.” Sota’s expression turns sour.

“Me three,” Shoma chimes in. Out of the three of them, Shoma was the only one who had completed the eight badges from the Gym Leaders this year. Nathan was a couple of badges short, while Sota had just begun being a full-fledged Pokémon trainer. It could have been epic—Shoma Uno, Nathan Chen, Sota Yamamoto, three good friends having the time of their lives in the world’s biggest competition. Maybe someday.

Suddenly, familiar faces start trickling in the diner, for the same reason everywhere else is full, most of them Shoma remembers from his travels. There’s Michael Martinez, a tall gangly boy he met in Osaka before they faced Gym Leader Tatsuki Machida; he’s accompanied by Zijun Li and Han Yan, who he befriended after defeating another Gym Leader. (Shoma notices the stars in Michael’s eyes whenever he looks at Zijun, and Han sighing wearily at the side.) There’s June Hyoung Lee and Jin Seo Kim, who he met in the Junior League a year ago, arms around each other while So Youn Park and Hae Jin Kim roll their eyes at their direction. Suddenly, tables are shifted next to them, and suddenly, it feels more like a high school reunion than anything else.

“Are you guys gonna watch Yuzuru Hanyu’s match later?” Zijun asks, scraping her plate with her fork.

“Yes!” Michael and Sota say at the same time, both in the same level of volume that everyone can’t resist cracking up.

“Then let’s watch together,” So Youn suggests, beaming. “The big names are scheduled in a few minutes.”

The big names’ matches are always scheduled at the end of the day, and seats would be so hard to find if not for a designated area where participants, eliminated or otherwise, can sit. They take up a row and pull out the entries list from the official League Web site, discussing this name and that name. Shoma barely scans the list and just sits back. He doesn’t need to know who’s who. These are the names that are currently dominating the League, the names that matter the most to hardcore League fans. If he’s lucky (or unlucky) enough, he’ll be facing some of them in the next round.

As expected, the matches are intense. Denis Ten pulverizes Max Aaron, while Ashley Wagner breezes through her match against Niki Wories. He can’t resist sitting up when Patrick Chan’s Pokémon give Ivan Righini’s a good beating, and Javier Fernandez’s match against Deniss Vasiljevs felt like ten minutes had passed so quickly.

The crowd starts becoming restless after the Fernandez-Vasiljevs match. Beside him, Sota starts fidgeting, and a couple of seats after Sota, Michael had straightened up in his seat. Nathan snickers from his seat, mumbling, “Here we go. The man of the hour.”

And just as Nathan says that, a tall, gangly figure walks into the arena, and the crowd (more like thousands of screeching girls) goes wild. The screen flashes the man’s face, and the name “Yuzuru Hanyu.” Sota starts making garbled sounds, and Michael looks just as unhinged. Shoma is half-tempted to bring out his phone and take a video, but Nathan already beat him to it.

The next person to come out of the arena is a Phillip Harris from Great Britain, who looks as starstruck as every Yuzuru Hanyu fan is in the arena. The referee blows his whistle, and the match begins.

It was a bloodbath, to put it lightly. For every Pokémon Harris calls, Yuzuru seems to instantly have a Pokémon that can easily beat it a minute, maybe seconds. And the next thing everyone knows, all six of Harris’ Pokémon are lying unconscious on the arena grounds.

The bell hasn’t even rung, and the referee hasn’t raised Yuzuru’s hand yet, but the crowd is already on their feet. Sota and Michael are yelling their lungs out, and even Nathan looks impressed as he breaks into applause.

And Shoma had his mouth agape, realizing that the stories are true—that Yuzuru Hanyu is a legendary Pokémon trainer in the making.

He has barely stood up from his seat when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jumps and looks over, and his mood instantly sours. “Boyang,” he says, deadpan.

“Hi, Shoma!” Boyang, meanwhile, doesn’t seem to take note of the unpleasant greeting. “Long time no see! The last time we saw each other was, what …?”

“Two months ago, in Nagoya?” Sota answers for Shoma, reaching forward from his side of the seat to give Boyang a one-armed hug. “Hey, Boyang! Great to see you again! Are you competing?”

“Sure am!” Boyang grins as he flashes his competitor’s ID. “Just defeated Chafik Besseghier a couple of hours ago. Pretty easy match, though.”

Nathan whistles in admiration, but quickly looks away when Shoma glares at him.

“Anyway, I gotta go. See you around! Maybe we’ll see each other in the arena?” Boyang grins, pats Shoma on the shoulder again, before taking his leave.

“I hope not,” Shoma mutters as soon as Boyang is out of earshot.

“Oh, come on, Shoma,” Sota tells him in amusement, Pikachu propped on his cap. “I mean, he beat you a couple of times, sure, but he’s really nice!”

Shoma knows that. He and Boyang have started their first day of being a Pokémon trainer at the same time, and they happened to be together when Professor Higuchi smiled and gestured towards the three starter Pokémon on the metallic table in front of her. Shoma had chosen Charmander, and Boyang had chosen Squirtle, and they had chatted amicably before they had went on their merry way.

They met again in a random street competition, the two of them the only rookies. They had surprised everyone by defeating every Pokémon trainer in the room who had at least a couple of years of training experience. But eventually, they were face to face in the finals, and only one of them could take home the title.

Boyang won. Shoma had started off strong, but suddenly Boyang called on his Blastoise. His Pokémon had already evolved, while most of Shoma’s hadn’t yet. And when Boyang was declared the winner, the taste of defeat was metallic in Shoma’s mouth.

Their second encounter was in Nagoya, a preliminary match before they encounter Gym Leader Akiko Suzuki. In some twist of fate, it was the two of them who were to go head to head in battle. By that time, Shoma had most of his Pokémon leveled up, and he had created the best-balanced collection of Pokémon, because it’s not all about having Pokémon with the highest levels; strategy matters, too.

Only his strategy didn’t work, and Boyang beat him again. Shoma would clench his fists thinking about Boyang being one step ahead of him every time they meet. It’s not that he hates Boyang, but Boyang is a reflection of the many things Shoma still needs to work on as a Pokémon trainer.

He admits he’s a work in progress, but the mere thought that someone can hit him at his weaknesses makes his blood boil.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two days later, Shoma moves up to the next round by defeating a Maxim Kovtun from Russia. They didn’t even use up the ten minutes. For every Pokémon Kovtun summons, Shoma instantly knows how to defeat it. When Kovtun has used up all his Pokémon in the five-minute mark, the arena is rendered silent for a few seconds before bursting into cheers.

“Fans are now calling you the dark horse to win this year’s League!” one reporter says. “What do you feel about that?”

“Um …” Shoma says lamely. He remembers Nathan briefing him the night before just in case he got bombarded by the press again. (He makes a mental note to thank Nathan later on.) “It’s too soon to determine whether I’ll really be a dark horse, but I’ll do everything that I can in my first year in the League.”

An hour after he was bombarded by the press, Boyang defeats last year’s third runner-up Mirai Nagasu. Suddenly, news articles on the Internet are all over Boyang, marking him the “Super Rookie”, press wondering if he’ll be able to break through the ranks of Asada, Hanyu, Fernandez, and Chan. One news Web site asked Boyang’s thoughts about Shoma, “the other rookie making waves by defeating 2015 Canadian champion Nam Nguyen and 2015 Russian champion Maxim Kovtun.” Boyang said, “Shoma and I had competed against each other twice. He’s really great. I really hope we can compete against each other sometime soon.”

And by some cruel twist of fate, the officials drew the two of them against each other for the third round.

Typically, Shoma doesn’t feel nervous. He’s familiar of the building anticipation whenever something is about to happen—his first day as a Pokémon trainer, the moment he almost thought he was going to lose to Gym Leader Tatsuki Machida and his Fairy Pokémon. But if there’s one thing he hates feeling, it’s the crippling anticipation of everything going wrong and not being able to do anything.

So, okay, maybe he’s nervous.

Scratch that. He’s terrified.

Suddenly, he feels a whack on his head and he yells at the sharp pain. He turns to look at where the whack came from, and he glares at Sota, who has that annoying grin on his face as he munches on takeout food in their hotel room. “What was that for?” he yelps, wincing as he rubs the painful spot.

“You have that look on your face again,” Sota points out. “That look where you want to kill people.”

“I always have this look,” Shoma says.

“Yeah, but you look like you want to murder an entire country or something,” Nathan butts in, taking the last of the fries. “Is this because of Boyang?” When Shoma doesn’t answer, he smirks. “Thought so.”

“Are you nervous?” Sota asks. Beside him, Pikachu steals a chicken nugget from his food box.

Suddenly, Shoma wants to puke out his soda at the thought of tomorrow’s match.

“Shoma,” Nathan says. Suddenly he sounds so serious. “I have something to ask you.”

“Hmm? Shoot.”

“We’re friends, right? You, me, Sota?”

“Um, yeah, we are,” Shoma says, wondering where this is going. He and Sota have grown up together, and he didn’t even hesitate when Sota’s mother asked if he could come along, “to teach him the importance of independence” or whatever. Nathan was new to the group, having helped Shoma and Sota save an injured Lapras, and decided to tag along after being impressed by Shoma’s match against Gym Leader Takahiko Kozuka. Since then, they were inseparable. Shoma doesn’t know how this relates to his supposed nervousness, though.

Nathan brightens up. “Great! Give me your Pokémon.”

Shoma blinks, not sure he heard right. “What?”

“Give me your Pokémon,” Nathan repeats. “I need a list of every Pokémon you have, even the Pokémon you’ve stored in the Pokémon Center.”

“Oh.” Shoma relaxes. “Okay, give me a sec …”

He has a total of fifteen Pokémon, six on hand, the rest in the Pokémon Center. Back then, he had the strong urge to catch every Pokémon listed in the Pokédex, but experience has taught him to create a well-balanced team. Charizard is the leader of the pack, of course, though the rest of his Pokémon are a great contribution to his battle strategies. Shoma can’t imagine a more solid team than the one he has.

But, now that Shoma has thought about it, this is the Pokémon League. Someone else can have a more solid team. Anything can happen.

He hands the list to Nathan, who browses and nods from time to time, Sota hovering behind him, head tilted in curiosity. Shoma wonders what Nathan can assume from the list—was his team well-balanced, or had he been thinking wrong all these years?

After what feels like eternity, Nathan sets down the list and nods sagely. “I think I got it,” he announces.

“Got what?”

“A strategy, you idiot!” Nathan doesn’t look up from Shoma’s list of Pokémon, only fishes out a pen and starts scribbling. “You’re so busy coming up with your own strategy, but you never ask for _our_ help.”

“Yeah!” Sota chimes in, browsing through whatever Nathan is writing. “Oh, what if …” He trails off as he points a couple of things on the paper. It must have made sense to Nathan because he scribbles something else.

Shoma feels like he had just been hit by a bullet train. “It didn’t occur for me to ask for help …” he admits. He always strategizes on his own, because he knows his Pokémon and what they’re capable of.

“We’re your friends, and this match against Boyang is obviously so important to you. We want you to crush him.” Nathan grins. “Well, Boyang’s nice and all, but we’re on your side.” He finishes writing with a flourish of his pen and hands the paper to Shoma. “Okay, done. Let me know what you think.”

Shoma goes through Nathan and Sota’s strategy (aptly titled “Nathan and Sota’s Strategy to Beat Boyang And Make Shoma Pokémon League Champion”), and felt himself shaking. The strategy isn’t perfect—at least, there are some things he wants to change—but the fact that his friends would make an effort to help him win …

“So, Shoma, what do you—” Nathan pauses, leaning forward before his eyes widen. “Oh my god, Shoma, are you crying?!”

“I’m not crying!” Shoma retorts, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

“Aww, he’s touched!” Sota exclaims. “Group hug!”

In the end, Sota’s the only one who does the hugging; Shoma makes a noise of protest, while Nathan settles for ruffling his hair. But either way, Shoma feels warmth spread through his chest, and his lips tug up to a smile.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He feels his heart pounding loudly against his ears as he walks along the hallways from his entrance to the arena. From here, he can hear the MC hyping up the crowd, can hear the fluff segments about him and Boyang and how they’ve crossed countless paths, with Boyang beating him all the time. “Will Shoma Uno finally edge out over Boyang Jin, or will Boyang continue to take the victory?” the MC asks, the crowd shouting their names in different directions.

He rubs his palms against the fabric of his jeans, and adjusts his Pokéball belt. He spent the whole night debating with Nathan and Sota on the final six Pokémon to use for today. He only has five Pokéballs in his belt; beside him, Sota’s Pikachu meanders with a glint in its eyes.

He steps into the arena to a roaring crowd. It’s surprising to see banners with his name on it, but he relaxes when he spots Nathan and Sota giving him a thumbs up. He manages a smile and returns the gesture.

He sees Boyang emerge from the other side of the arena, and the crowd roars again. He grins at Shoma, adjusting his own Pokébelt. “Shoma!” he calls. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

Shoma finds himself nodding.

The referee puts a hand up, and the crowd goes silent. A blow of the whistle, and the match begins.

Shoma barely has a hand on his Pokéball when Boyang cries, “Go, Machamp!”

The flash of light that comes out of Boyang’s Pokéball takes the form of the humanoid Pokémon, flexing its four arms in an attempt to intimidate. But Shoma is anything but, as he grabs for his own Pokéball.

“Go, Charizard!”

Charizard appears and roars, spreading his wings, but Machamp barely moves an inch. Boyang has not yet given a command, but it immediately pounces on Charizard. Charizard’s reflexes are quick, springing up in the air and unleashing a flamethrower. Shoma holds a breath when Machamp’s reflexes are equally quick, dodging the attack.

“Man, that was a close one!” Boyang exclaims. “Shoma, your Charizard has improved so much from last time!”

Shoma’s not sure whether Boyang’s genuinely complimenting him or distracting him, but he’s quick to quash down the speculations to focus on the match. “Slash it, Charizard,” he commands, his voice low but clear enough for the Pokémon to hear.

Charizard nods and dives headfirst towards Machamp, but suddenly a roar is heard throughout the arena. The next thing Shoma knows, there’s a loud roar and a loud impact, and his Charizard is sent flying backwards, crashing towards the ground.

Shoma looks at the attacker and finds himself face to face with … “Charizard?”

“Shoma!” he hears Nathan yelling from his seat. “That’s not Charizard! Remember what we talked about!”

Yes, Shoma remembers it clearly. Now that he looks at this Charizard carefully, the face is different, shrunken. “Ditto,” he mutters. Nathan had told him Boyang had recently acquired it, and it had been Boyang’s secret weapon, copying Pokémon after Pokémon that his opponents have.

“So how am I supposed to defeat it when it’ll keep copying my Pokémon?” Shoma had asked on their night of strategizing.

Nathan had shrugged. “You’d be lucky if Boyang calls Ditto out early. At this point, just figure out the weakness of the Pokémon it copied then work your way there.”

_Figure out the weakness of the Pokémon it copied._ Shoma mentally nodded as he reaches for a Pokéball and throws it in the air. “Go, Gyarados!” His blue serpentine Pokémon emerges, roaring at Ditto-Charizard, and he wastes no time commanding, “Hydro Pump!”

He allows himself to smile when the impact of the water hits Ditto-Charizard, sending it crashing on the other side of the arena. He looks at Boyang, who doesn’t look the least bit frustrated at the situation but, instead, mutters, “Ditto, you know what to do.”

Ditto-Charizard nods, and it’s enveloped in a ray of light. Shoma watches as the light takes shape, and the next thing he knows, Ditto-Charizard is now Ditto-Gyarados.

Shoma swears under his breath, and he barely has a chance to react when Ditto-Gyarados pounces on his Gyarados and sinks its teeth into its body. Gyarados roars in pain, but thrashes its tail to wave away doppelganger.

“Isn’t Ditto amazing?” Boyang says, its Ditto-Gyarados blitzing past him, brushing past his arm. “It can be any Pokémon I want it to be. And since I trained it well these past few months, it can be a stronger version of any Pokémon it copies!”

Shoma grits his teeth and clenches his fists. His eyes drift to the arena screen, where it shows that they only have five minutes left. At this point, all he does is change his Pokémon whenever Ditto copies his previous Pokémon, and it’s not doing him any favors. At this rate, they’ll either go on a tie, or worse, Boyang will beat him.

Either scenario is not an option.

“Pikachu!” he calls. “Thundershock!”

Pikachu nods and scampers towards Ditto-Gyarados, sparks of thunder emitting from its cheeks. Ditto-Gyarados writhes in pain, collapsing on the ground, but not before transforming into Ditto-Pikachu.

Ditto-Pikachu looks like it’s about to attack, but Shoma quickly commands, “Pikachu, retreat!” He grabs his Pokéball and throws it in the air, “Go, Charizard! Burn that copycat!”

Charizard roars and soars in the air upon being let out, sending a hurricane of fire around Ditto-Pikachu. He can hear Ditto-Pikachu’s sounds of pain, and when the fire had disappeared, it came back to its Ditto form, collapsing on the ground, unconscious.

And Shoma’s shoulders relax as the bell rings, and he can’t resist beaming when the referee raises his arm and the crowd leaps to their feet cheering.

He did it.

He won against Boyang.

Charizard hovers next to him, craning down his neck, and he can’t resist hovering his hand to rub its head. “You did great, you and Gyarados,” he says affectionately. He looks down and sees Pikachu looking up at him expectantly, and he chuckles. “You, too, Pikachu. Sota will be proud of you.”

Pikachu makes a hum of agreement and hugs his leg.

He hears footsteps approaching, and he looks up and sees Boyang holding out his hand. “Congratulations,” he says. “You were really great back there.”

Shoma blinks before shaking Boyang’s hand, grip strangely more relaxed than their last two handshakes. “Um, thanks,” he says. “You weren’t exactly easy to beat either.”

Boyang laughs sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “You know, I always thought you were mad at me.” When Shoma doesn’t ask to elaborate, he continues anyway, “I mean, when we both got our starter Pokémon, we were good friends. Then we started to go against each other, and you always had this look like you’re going to murder me in my sleep or something.”

Now Shoma feels a strong punch to the gut. Looking back, all his anger and frustration towards being beaten by Boyang … it all sounds so childish and … stupid. “Um,” he starts. “I was so focused on being strong. Sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay, I’m not mad at you!” Suddenly, Boyang moves forward and gives Shoma a quick hug, startling him in the process. “And you’re already strong. I’ll just have to be stronger so I can beat you in the next League!”

“Don’t be so sure of that.”

And they share a laugh. The last time Shoma remembers laughing with Boyang was before they went their separate ways. Now, Shoma’s strong, still wants to be stronger, but he guesses he doesn’t have to see strong friends as rivals anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

They go out to celebrate as soon as Shoma steps out of the locker rooms, after being bombarded by the press again, of course. Nathan and Sota crush him in a hug as soon as they’re both alone, and Nathan says something about this restaurant he found over the Internet while waiting for the match to start. “I always knew you’d win,” Nathan tells him with a grin.

Shoma grins sheepishly. “I couldn’t have done it without your guys’ help,” he says.

“And now you owe Pikachu some treats,” Sota says, his grin mirroring Nathan’s. Pikachu lies on his cap, eyes sparkling.

Their celebration ends up being in the same restaurant where they ate out after Shoma beat Nam. The staff has apparently watched the news, because their bill got slashed in half and they were treated to unlimited servings of desserts. Shoma feels too full at the second serving of ice cream that he ends up shoving the next servings to Pikachu, who happily gobbles it all.

“So you have at least a couple of days to rest before quarter-finals,” Nathan points out as he scrapes the remaining chocolate sauce off his plate.

Shoma nods. “I’m letting all my Pokémon rest in the Center,” he says. “Then … I’ll probably start strategizing for quarter-finals … with you guys, if you want.”

“Of course, we want to,” Sota says, flashing a thumbs-up for emphasis.

“I wonder who you’ll be up against, though,” Nathan says thoughtfully, leaning against his chair. “There’s Ashley Wagner, and I heard she’s tough to beat. Mao Asada, of course. Satoko Miyahara’s getting attention for beating Denis Ten in the third elimination round.”

“And don’t forget Yuzuru Hanyu and Patrick Chan,” Sota speaks up. Suddenly, his eyes widen at those words. “Oh. My. God.”

“What?” Shoma asks with a frown.

“Yuzuru and Patrick are against each other for the third elimination round,” Sota says slowly. He fishes out his phone, then freaks out. “Oh my god, I thought I set my alarm for the match, but I didn’t! And now it’s almost over!”

“There’s still time,” Nathan says, glancing behind him, where the restaurant television is conveniently located. He glances at one of the waitresses. “Can we turn it on to the sports channel?”

The waitress complies, and they make it in time to the last three minutes of the match. Patrick Chan doesn’t look pleased, but Yuzuru Hanyu is as calm as ever. It doesn’t take a genius to guess that the match has been tough.

But that’s no surprise. Patrick Chan is a three-time Pokémon League champion, and has since then destroyed every opponent he has come across. Since Shoma started training, Patrick has been considered the best of the best, combining well-crafted strategy with strong Pokémon. He came into this competition with an eye for a fourth title, and with his performance for the past few days, it’s possible.

But Yuzuru is a story of his own. After making it to the semi-finals three years ago, everyone has labeled him The Next Big Thing. It rang true a year after his first Pokémon League, earning his first title after beating Tatsuki Machida in an intense match. The past year, he was beaten by Javier Fernandez, but right now, everyone is saying he has a shot at his second title.

And with the looks of this match, Yuzuru Hanyu is hungry for that second title.

“Charizard,” Yuzuru commands, voice steely. “Flamethrower.”

Flames envelop the whole television screen, and the crowd roars at that. When the smoke has cleared, Patrick’s Dodrio collapses on the arena grounds, and the timer in the arena screen rings, signaling the end of the match.

“The winner—Yuzuru Hanyu!” The referee raises Yuzuru’s hand in the air, the victor looking pleased with himself, the crowd rising to their feet.

“He’s so amazing,” Sota says, voice filled with awe. “At this rate, I’m scared for whoever’s gonna face him in the next round.”

Shoma wonders what it’s like to face Yuzuru Hanyu in this form, to face one of the strongest Pokémon trainers in the world. It’s going to be more difficult than going against Boyang, that’s for sure. But unlike the match against Boyang, he doesn’t feel scared at all. At least, not yet.

It’s only when the announcement of who’s going against who in the quarter-finals does Shoma feels the fear strike, his name right beside Yuzuru Hanyu’s written in bold, dark letters.

_Shit._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

So he’s against Yuzuru Hanyu in the quarter-finals.

Okay, usually, he wouldn’t be so nervous. He would be ecstatic to be up against the best of the best, like everyone else. Only this is the quarter-finals. Whoever wins this match gets to go move to the semi-finals, and whoever wins the semi-finals will battle it out for the Pokémon League title.

The title had been a dream of his ever since he wanted to become a Pokémon League champion. Now that it’s near his grasp, he knows there’s no room for error.

“I have to win this,” he says. They’re sitting around the table of their hotel room, a list of his Pokémon and Yuzuru’s Pokémon spread at the center, the words “Shoma’s Strategy to Beat Yuzuru Hanyu and Win the Pokémon League” written in large, bold letters by Sota. That’s their fifth draft of the strategy, and it looks like it’s going to be thrown away again. “I mean, if I win this, I’m one step closer to the title.”

Nathan’s expression is strangely somber. “I want you to win,” he says, “but this isn’t going to be easy. Yuzuru Hanyu has captured so many Pokémon, even beyond where we’ve ventured, and not even the Pokédex’s updated with whatever he has.”

“But couldn’t he just use whatever Pokémon he has used throughout the competition?” Sota points out.

“He’ll most probably use some of them, but this is the quarter-finals. He’s hungry for another title, and he’ll do what it takes.”

“So that means, even if we strategize, we’re not sure Shoma’s going to win?” Sota’s face falls.

“Not every strategy guarantees victory,” Nathan says sagaciously. “If Yuzuru Hanyu’s one step ahead of our strategy, at least Shoma’s not going to face a humiliating defeat.”

Shoma groans and bangs his face on the table. It’s close to ten in the evening, and his brain is close to exploding. They started strategizing five hours ago and it showed no signs of finishing. How are they going to defeat one of the best Pokémon trainers in recent history?

Nathan sighs. “Let’s take a break,” he announces. “Who wants an early midnight snack? I can go and buy ramen in the convenience store—”

“I’ll go,” Shoma says, standing up. Nathan opens his mouth to retort, but Shoma quickly adds, “I need to, um, stretch my legs and, um, think of things.”

“Okay …”

There’s a convenience store next to the hotel, empty except for the occasional people stumbling to the alcohol booth. The cashier barely gives him a second glance as he plops down three ramen packs and three cans of Coke on the counter, mechanically asking him for the total amount. Shoma hands him the exact amount, grabs the plastic bag, and turns to leave, but not without colliding into someone. He drops the plastic bag and feels the change in his pocket falling down on the ground.

“Sorry about that, kid!” a voice exclaims. “Here, let me help you—”

“No, it’s okay, I—” Shoma’s finally in eye level with the person who bumped him, and he seems to have lost his voice when he recognizes the person. He was expecting some random guy, not …

“Daisuke … Takahashi …?”

He remembers being six where he and his parents watched the Pokémon League finals, where Daisuke Takahashi went against defending champion Evgeni Plushenko. Daisuke had a Charizard, too, and Plushenko had its Venusaur. Fire beats Grass anytime, but Venusaur was stronger, and Charizard had collapsed after an intense showdown. Yet, Shoma could remember the fire in Daisuke’s eyes, and he dreamed of having the same fire when he steps on the arena someday.

Daisuke grins as he sweeps off the change on the ground and hands it to him, along with his plastic bag. “Hey, kid,” he says, grinning. Suddenly, he brightens up. “Hey, you’re that kid who beat that Jin guy!”

“Um …” _Shit,_ Daisuke knows him. Where are Nathan and Sota when this is all happening? “Yeah …?”

“Cool! You were pretty impressive, kid. Amazing strategies. Ready for your match with Hanyu?”

Shoma feels the blood drain from his face as he hears the name. No, he’s not ready. He wants that title, but the next person on his way just happens to be one of the best in the world. And he’s not even sure if Yuzuru Hanyu is beatable this year.

Daisuke’s expression has softened, his hand on Shoma’s shoulder. “It’s okay to be nervous,” he says. “Yuzuru Hanyu’s definitely something. But you know my secret when I was competing for the League?”

Shoma blinks. Daisuke Takahashi is talking to him, and now is giving him advice? This is too much!

“Just have fun,” Daisuke tells him. “Pressure is good, but remember the reason why you became a Pokémon trainer in the first place.” And with another pat, Daisuke waves at him and leaves the store.

Shoma doesn’t know how long he has been standing there, dumbfounded, but he was pretty sure he was also grinning like an idiot.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nathan springs up from the edge of the bed when Shoma returns from the hotel, still in a daze. “Dude, where have you been?” he exclaims. “I was about to go outside to look for you!”

“Um …” Shoma says, quite dumbly.

“Where were you?” Nathan sounds a little frantic as he shakes Shoma’s shoulders. “I know the pressure of winning is getting to you, but—”

“Daisuke.”

Nathan blinks. “Huh?”

“Daisuke,” Shoma repeats, feeling his lips tug up. “I met him in the convenience store on my way out.”

There’s a long stretch of silence before Nathan and Sota scream “Dude!” simultaneously before tackling Shoma in a hug and screaming questions in his ear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The big day has arrived.

Shoma stands up a little straighter as he arrives in the arena, the crowd roaring as he enters. Yuzuru Hanyu arrives a mere minute after him, and the cheers become louder. Yuzuru smiles at him, eyes disappearing into crinkles. Shoma tries to smile, but he thinks it comes off as a grimace.

“I’m looking forward to this match,” Yuzuru tells him once the referee tells them to come closer. He holds out his hand. “You were pretty amazing, these previous matches.”

“Um, thanks,” Shoma replies, shaking Yuzuru’s hand, grip strangely firm.

“Ready to start?” the referee asks. When they both nod, he puts his hands together. “Great! Places, both of you. We’ll begin as soon as I blow my whistle.”

They trudge to their respective ends of the arena, the crowd chattering in anticipation. From his side of the arena, he can see Nathan and Sota, his two friends looking as anxious as he is. He tries to give them a reassuring smile, but his muscles don’t seem to cooperate.

The arena screen flashes their faces and their names, the referee blows his whistle, and the game begins.

Shoma throws his Pokéball in the air. “Go, Charizard!”

From the other side, Yuzuru cries out, “Go, Lapras!”

Light flashes from both their sides of the arena, each side revealing their Pokémon. Charizard roars at Lapras, who growls in return. Yuzuru has his arms crossed, forehead creased in contemplation. He has to make the first move, or else … Charizard’s fire attacks are weak against water, so …

“Charizard! Dragon Claw!”

Charizard nods and flies high up in the air, raising its claw. It lets out a spine-chilling roar before diving down, ready to strike at Lapras.

When Shoma looks at that side of the arena, he blinks. The spot where Lapras is supposed to be is now empty, and Charizard pauses in the air mid-strike. “Huh? Where did it—”

“Lapras,” comes Yuzuru’s voice, with the same coolness Shoma remembers during his match against Patrick. “Water Gun.”

Shoma’s eyes widen and he feels his heart drop as he looks around the arena to find Charizard. “Charizard, look out!”

He spots Charizard evading the rush of water from Lapras just in time. He sighs in relief, but the battle is half from over. “Continue attacking, but it’s fast!” he instructs his Pokémon. “Avoid its attacks at all costs!”

Charizard nods and dives to tackle Lapras, but the Pokémon evades again, launching a Water Gun that Charizard barely misses. It continues like that for some time—Charizard attacking, Lapras evading and sneaking an attack—and Shoma knows if this continues further, he’ll risk Charizard getting exhausted. “Charizard, retreat!” he commands. “Go, Pikachu! Use Thunderbolt!”

Pikachu springs into action as Charizard retreats to its Pokéball. It’s small and charges to Lapras, sending a wave of thunder towards the latter’s direction before it can even react. Lapras whines and writhes in pain, backing away and moving towards Yuzuru.

Yuzuru’s expression is blank, which isn’t a good sign. The timer on the screen showed that three minutes had barely passed, but Shoma felt it had been half an hour or so.

“Lapras, you did great,” Yuzuru says, patting the Pokémon before it disappears in its Pokéball. “You, too, kid. That Pikachu’s pretty fast.”

If he wasn’t so scared of the outcome of this match, Shoma would have laughed at the thought of Sota having an emotional meltdown because Yuzuru Hanyu just complimented his Pikachu. “It’s my friend’s Pikachu,” he says. “Gave it to me for today.”

“Cool.” Yuzuru manages a smile. “Unfortunately, I have to apologize to your friend. I need to make sure I move on to the next round.” He tosses a Pokéball in the air. “Go, Golem!” When the turtle-like Pokémon appears and growls at Pikachu, Yuzuru commands, “Heavy Slam!”

Golem nods and withdraws in its shell, rolling towards Pikachu’s direction.

“Pikachu, don’t let it get you!”

Pikachu misses the first attack and scampers to another direction of the arena, sending thunderbolts in its wake. Golem is immune to the thunder attacks, though, and quickens its pace.

“Pikachu can’t run all ten minutes long,” Yuzuru points out. “Golem, Earthquake.”

Golem comes out of its shell and stomps hard on the ground. Everything around him starts to move, and Shoma almost loses his balance. He looks around for Pikachu—where could it had gone off to?—until he finds it, holding on to a chunk of ground that has lodged out of its foundation.

Pikachu barely has time to react when Golem jumps out from behind it and strikes.

“No …” Shoma feels a punch to the gut as Pikachu rolls in front of him, unconscious. He catches Sota’s gaze, eyes wide and face pale.

Five minutes left.

“I was expecting to at least be challenged,” Yuzuru says with a shake of his head. “I guess I was wrong? Or at least you still have time to prove me wrong, Shoma.”

Shoma grits his teeth, clenches his fists. Time is running out. If this keeps up, he’ll lose. Everything that the media said about him being the black horse of this competition will all be proven wrong. Nathan and Sota would have lent their Pokémon for nothing. There’s always next year, but … that title was just a grasp away and now …

His gaze turns to where Nathan and Sota are. The two are standing in their seats, yelling something at him they can’t make out. His heart sinks. His two best friends did everything they can—they strategized with him, heck, they lent their Pokémon to him—and all he did is fail them.

He turns to another side of the arena, and his eyes widen. Daisuke Takahashi is on the front row, arms crossed. Suddenly, he remembers the advice from a couple of days ago.

_“Pressure is good, but remember the reason why you became a Pokémon trainer in the first place.”_

Why? Suddenly, Shoma finds himself going back in time.

Even as a kid, Shoma had always wanted to be something greater. He had always wanted to step out of town, get lost and find out what’s beyond the familiar. Only Pokémon trainers have that kind of luxury, so at sixteen, he signs up in Professor Higuchi’s laboratory, and begins life as a Pokémon trainer.

And it hadn’t been easy. Sometimes his Pokémon are stubborn and wouldn’t do what he said (Charmander had its rebellious streaks when it evolved into Charmeleon). Sometimes he’d hear fellow trainers talking about him, calling his victories against Gym Leaders flukes. Sometimes he was tempted to take the first train home, because the world wasn’t as amazing as he thought it was.

But then, he remembers Sota catching up to him in Osaka, then meeting Nathan. He remembers their cheers for him for every match, how they lift him up. He remembers Charizard finally, _finally_ obeying him after months of shaking his head and letting his other Pokémon do the dirty work. He starts winning bigger matches, and people are starting to take notice of him.

And then, the Team Rocket incident happened.

He and Sota just happened to be caught up in what news considered Team Rocket’s biggest attempt of Pokémon theft. But Daisuke Takahashi and some Gym Leaders—Takahiko Kozuka and Nobunari Oda—had been there to put a stop to it all. Suddenly, Pokémon training isn’t just about collecting badges or fighting for the Pokémon League title. Suddenly, he wants to put a stop to anyone who uses Pokémon for wrongdoing.

He has many reasons, he realizes. There’s a million things he hasn’t done, and he can’t wait to do them all, as a Pokémon trainer.

“Hey.” Yuzuru snaps him out of his thoughts, a smirk on his face. “We still have time left. Or have you already given up, Shoma?”

“Not a chance.” As long as he’s still in this arena, he’ll continue to fight. He grabs a Pokéball in his belt and throws it in the air, trusting that this will be it. “Go, Vileplume! Use Poison Powder!”

The red flower on Vileplume’s head twitches, releasing pollen to the wind, drifting towards Golem’s direction. Golem stumbles as he inhales the poison, stumbling to the ground and writhing in pain afterwards. The look on Yuzuru’s face as he calls Golem back to its Pokéball is priceless.

But he can’t celebrate yet. There’s still time left.

“That’s the spirit,” Yuzuru says with a nod. “Now the real fight begins. Go, Snorlax!”

“Huh?” Shoma can’t resist blurting out when Snorlax appears, the giant yawning and stretching. It’s a risk to release Snorlax in battle—it will either be asleep or worse, fully awake to deal heavy damage. But from the looks of it, Yuzuru’s Snorlax is alert and awake; he has a bad feeling about this.

“Snorlax, Body Slam!”

Suddenly, Snorlax starts running at Vileplume’s direction, each step causing the ground to shake. Vileplume had released poison from its flower, but Snorlax is surprisingly quick, jumping and slamming onto the Grass Pokémon in an instant.

From his peripheral vision, he can see Nathan’s jaw dropping. Shoma mumbles an apology before sending Vileplume back to its Pokéball. A quick scan of his remaining Pokémon, and he knows what to do. Snorlax may have beaten Vileplume with its size, so he’s going to call on something smaller but more agile. “Go, Hitmonchan! Focus Punch, and make sure Snorlax doesn’t retaliate!”

Hitmonchan doesn’t disappoint. It deftly avoids Snorlax’s punch and proceeds to throw punches at the giant Pokémon, avoiding, then attacking again. The crowd cheers when Hitmonchan delivers the final punch, sending Snorlax down on the ground. And this time, Shoma doesn’t stumble from his spot.

There are still three minutes left.

“Having fun, Shoma?” Yuzuru says, his smile making his eyes disappear into crinkles once more.

“Um, excuse me?” Shoma blinks. He isn’t really expecting that kind of question in the middle of a match.

“Are you having fun?” Yuzuru repeats, chuckling. “I have to say, out of all my matches this year, this is the most fun I had.”

Should he be flattered? Shoma doesn’t know if Yuzuru Hanyu’s definition of fun would be finding the best way to beat each and every one of his Pokémon, but … Well, he’s made it to the semi-finals, he’s up against one of the best Pokémon trainers and is giving said Pokémon trainer a hard time so … He grins. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Good.” Yuzuru nods. “We still have some time left. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?”

“Sure.” Shoma hovers his hand on his belt, and prepares for the worst.

Yuzuru takes a Pokéball and stares at it fondly. “I just caught this Pokémon in one of my recent adventures,” he relates. “This will be its first time in an official battle, so be nice to him. Go, Munna!”

Shoma stares as a small, pink egg-like Pokémon emerges from the Pokéball. Its shiny red eyes glinting at Hitmonchan’s direction as it floats up in the air. Hitmonchan doesn’t look intimidated, but Shoma knows there’s more to that cute façade than meets the eye.

“Munna, use Synchronoise!”

“Hitmonchan, don’t let it get you!” Shoma commands just as Munna closes its eyes. He may not have encountered that Pokémon before, but he knows a Psychic attack when he sees one. “Attack it before it strikes!”

Hitmonchan nods and charges towards Munna, whose eyes have closed, probably gathering all its psychic energy. His Pokémon nears in no time, jumping and raising its fist to strike—

But Munna opens its eyes and releases a shockwave, sending Hitmonchan flying backwards, unconscious.

Shoma swears, his eyes flitting up to the timer. Two minutes left. This Pokémon is going to be his last hope. He has to make this count.

“Go, Alakazam!”

Alakazam appears beside Shoma, wielding its silver spoons and pointing it towards Munna. Munna merely smiles at it as it floats next to Yuzuru.

The arena timer beeps—one minute left.

“Psychic versus Psychic, huh?” Yuzuru crosses his arms and grins. “This should be interesting.”

“This will decide everything,” Shoma says, holding his breath. “No holding back.”

“Not planning to. Munna, Psybeam!”

Yuzuru commands Munna just as Shoma commands, “Alakazam, Psybeam!”

Both Pokémon unleash beams at the same time, the ends of the beams colliding at the center of the arena. The impact is so strong that Shoma holds onto one of the arena’s pillars before he’s swept away. Yuzuru has already latched himself to one of the pillars, too, and he was the last thing Shoma saw before blinding white light fills his vision.

The smoke and the light clears, eventually. His eyes quickly drift to the arena timer, the numbers still ticking from ten seconds. He quickly looks for Alakazam, who’s still standing, though its knees are shaking, ready to collapse. Munna looks equally worse for the wear, and for the first time, Yuzuru Hanyu looks agitated.

“Come on, Alakazam …” he pleads. “Just hold it out for a few more seconds …”

Seven more seconds. Six. Five. Four … Three …

Alakazam’s knees give way, and it collapses before the timer hit One.

Shoma falls to his knees as he runs to Alakazam. He’s barely aware of the cheers from the crowd, barely aware of the referee announcing Yuzuru as the winner. But when he calls Alakazam back to its Pokéball and when Pikachu skips in front of him, that’s when he feels his vision start to blur and his shoulders start to shake.

Oh god, he’s crying on international television. He won’t be hearing the end of this from Nathan and Sota.

Suddenly, he hears the sound of footsteps approaching, then Yuzuru asking, “You okay?”

Shoma looks up to see Yuzuru smiling, a hand extended. He wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt as he takes Yuzuru’s hand and stands up. Yuzuru doesn’t let go, his handshake firm.

“Congratulations,” he says. Shoma realizes his shoulders feel the lightest they have been since the competition started.

“I should congratulate you, too,” Yuzuru says. “That was the hardest match I’ve had all year.” He chuckles when Shoma’s eyes widen. “I’m not joking! You have potential. You have a lot of things ahead of you.”

“I’ll get stronger,” Shoma says. “I hope next year we’ll face each other again and I’ll be able to beat you.”

“I’ll be looking forward to that.” Yuzuru nods, the glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Well, see you around, Shoma.”

Yuzuru has already turned around to walk away when Shoma remembers something. “Um, Yuzuru?”

Yuzuru stops in his tracks and looks over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Can I ask for an autograph? My best friend is a huge fan.”

He may have lost the match and a shot of a Pokémon League title, but with the opportunity already in front of him, best friend duties are also important.

He owes them that much.

Well, maybe Sota for now. He’ll think about what to give Nathan later on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I swear to god, Shoma, I’m going to have this framed in my room!”

“And I swear to god, Sota, you’ve told us you’re having that framed in your room since last night.” Nathan rolls his eyes, though the smile on his lips betrays him. “Shoma, this is your fault. Now he isn’t going to shut up about this.”

Shoma shrugs and sips his iced tea. “Sorry, not sorry.”

It’s the day after the semi-final match. Some people on the street stop him for an autograph and a photo op, others are content to congratulate him. It’s weird, because he didn’t even win, but it’s a welcoming feeling to know that people are expecting him to be back in the arena next year.

He’ll make sure of that.

“So …” Nathan says, an arm around Shoma’s shoulders as they stroll through the streets. “Where to now?”

“I’m planning to go home, for a week,” Shoma says, thoughtfully. He can’t remember the last time he was home, despite his mother’s constant reminders. That, and he wants to pay Professor Higuchi a visit.

“Ayt, I’m coming with you, then! It’ll be fun, being on vacation once in a while.”

“And after maybe a week or two, let’s go back on the road,” Sota says, finally stuffing his Yuzuru Hanyu autograph in his bag. “Gotta earn Gym Badges.”

“Because the three of us have to be in the League next year, huh?” Nathan’s eyes glint with determination. “And maybe Shoma’s going to beat Yuzuru next time.”

Maybe. Shoma isn’t sure he’ll be as strong, or stronger, than Yuzuru Hanyu next year, but one thing’s for sure—he’ll get better. And Nathan and Sota will be by his side through the long journey ahead.

He’s in the middle of his thoughts when he bumps into Sota, who pauses from their stroll, yelping. “What’s going on?” he asks.

“Um, Shoma …” Sota points to someone in the near distance.

_Oh._

“Hey, Shoma, kid!” Daisuke Takahashi approaches him, hand extended. “You did great yesterday.”

“T-Thanks …” Shoma’s hand feels like lead, but he manages to shake Daisuke’s hand anyway. Also Daisuke Takashi knows his name?? “I didn’t win though.”

“Nah, winning shouldn’t be the goal. What’s important is you gave it your all. We’ll see you next year, right?”

“Yeah, of course!” Shoma makes an embarrassing squeak, and he throws a glare at his two friends who suddenly snicker. “I’ll come back better than ever.”

“That’s the spirit.” Daisuke grins. “Anyway, I didn’t just randomly walk into you and your friends. I was looking for you, actually.”

Shoma blinks. Daisuke Takashi knows his name, just shook his hand, and was looking for him? This can’t be happening. “Really?”

“Yeah, meet me at the park across the street in ten minutes. Duel. You and me. What do you say?”

Shoma looks at Nathan and Sota, who smile and nod at him. He returns the smile before looking at Daisuke.

“You’re on.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**_Epilogue_ **

Meanwhile, in what is revealed to be the biggest plot twist in Pokémon League history, heavy favorite Yuzuru Hanyu loses to rising star Satoko Miyahara.

The Pokémon League has a new champion.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_-The End-_


End file.
